Behind the Curtains
by Prewritesuccession
Summary: Chatelaine is moving...again. Big shocker. But when her mother chooses Japan; Tokyo, to be exact, her older cousin Oishi introduces her with some new school friends that will change her perspective forever.
1. Frazzled

The wind blew a flutter of leaves into my bare room, sprinkling the green blades over the carpets and table. I blinked into the afternoon sun pooling through the open window. The streets were noisy with vendors and merchants selling goods. The air was a sickly mixture of the aroma of foods, sweat, and car exhaust. According to Mom, Tokyo had always smelled like this. I swept my eyes across my new room. It was nice; an already-set-up bed, a sliding closet, a personal bathroom and...boxes and boxes full of my things, with tiny leaves curled up across the cardboard.

Sighing, I sat down on the mattress. The move had been hard. Not as hard for me as for Mom, of course, but still. She knew this town. I didn't. But more importantly, she was fluent in Japanese. I wasn't. I opened my duffel bag and took out my journal. Okay, well, not really journal; I could never bring myself to write in it continuously like a diary. But I still called it a journal. It had my sketches, bits of writing, and story ideas in there. Flipping to the back, I stared at the photo taped onto the last page.

It was me, with Emily, Helen, and Serena, smiling from the branches of a willow tree. They had signed, _Miss you lots already. Visit soon! –Emily, You're an amazing person. Luv ya! –Helen, _and _Call us! Talk to me the most, though. –Serena. _

I smiled and put my book away again, except into the backpack already heavy with textbooks, leaning against my box of sheet music and trophies. I had flipped through the books yesterday around two in the morning due to my jet-lag, and discovered, with horror, everything was a year ahead of me (except for biology).

Light footsteps came up the stairs, and I gently pushed the notebook deeper into the pack, hiding it from sight. Just then, Amaya burst in and jumped onto my bed, bouncing up and down on her thin knees. "Chat-chan!" She cried, hugging my arm. "You've slept for so long, you missed breakfast _and _lunch." My Japanese was rusty, but I could still decipher most of what she was saying; enough, at least, to understand. I patted her head fondly. She called me Chat. But I only answered to it from Amaya, who couldn't say my full name. And, I thought it was a cute nickname.

My stomach rumbled at the thought of the missed meals. It was true; I had stumbled up the steps of my aunt's house yesterday in the afternoon after a fourteen hour plane ride. Aunt Honami had prepared an amazing dinner, but I was too tired to eat a bite. Amaya had taken me upstairs, practically dragging me by the hand and prattling all the way up in rapid-speed Japanese while Oishi lugged my suitcases up behind us.

"Oishi was going to show you to your school!" Amaya squealed. I blinked.

"But it's Saturday," I pointed out. Did I miss something? Was I late? Did Japanese people go to school on Saturdays too? Amaya laughed at the confused look on my face.

"No, no, he's going there today, and said he'd take you, too!" I shrugged. Well, alright. It was probably like a circle around the grounds, or just a general direction. Amaya smiled at me and ran back down the stairs. I closed the door and pulled some nice clothes out of my messy suitcase. That was nice of Oishi. But then again, he was that kind of person.

I sauntered down the stairs and into the kitchen. Auntie and Mom were in there cooking, while Oishi and Amaya downed boiled eggs, dry cereal, and orange juice. I raised an eyebrow. Odd combination. Sitting in the empty seat next to Oishi, I looked around. "Where's Uncle?"

"He's already at work." Oishi glanced at the clock. "And we should get going, too." I grabbed an egg and pulled on my sneakers. Oishi grabbed a duffel bag hanging in the closet next to the door, and we ran to catch a community bus.

"What are we doing today, Oishi?" He glanced at me.

"I'll show you how to get to school, then I have tennis practice, so you can just hang around until we're done." Ah. Right. I forgot that Oishi played tennis. Apparently, he was quite good, but I had never really seen him play before. I just nodded from the seat next to him. Oishi was the same as ever. Even his hair hadn't changed. That weird, silly hairstyle that always made me laugh when I saw it.

Soon enough, we jumped off in front of a giant school. Giant. Like, really big. Really, _really _big. Oishi saw my goggling eyes and laughed. "Very big?" I nodded and gulped, still staring up at the monstrous school. _Too _big. Suddenly, I felt puny. Very puny. _Too _puny.

The academy was made of red bricks, surrounded by a low wall and ringed with trees. The inner courtyard was made of little white tiles, green leaves sprinkling gently over them. To my right there was a nicely-trimmed field. To my left were a few sets of tennis courts. Oishi was already walking towards them, bag over shoulder, like it was the most casual thing in the world. I shivered then ran to catch up to my cousin.

We stopped at the edge of the first court, next to a small building that I supposed was the warm-up room. A long row of faucets spit water into a basin. The ground was dry. And the sounds of tennis surrounded me. I turned and looked into the courts behind me.

Boys, many boys, played, stretched, or lined the courts. They did swing exercises, picked up balls, or rallied between each other. I paled. _So...many...people_...Suddenly, I felt very conspicuous. I felt my loose dress hang off my wiry figure in an unflattering way, and I sensed the blood drain out of my face again as one of the boys looked curiously my way.

Oishi, however, seemed unconcerned. He grabbed my wrist. "Come! You can watch us practice today!" I tried to struggle, but I wasn't an athlete like Oishi. My tongue was heavy, so I couldn't protest. I could feel my body being dragged across the dirt.

Why did Oishi have to bring me here? He knew I wasn't one for introductions. He should know better than anyone else. I remembered that first time I met him when we were eight. I had asked why he had cut his hair so odd. Oishi hadn't talked to me for a while after that. I didn't want to meet Oishi's friends. But I could put up no resistance as I stumbled across the ground. And, to my horror, we soon stopped at the A courts, where guys with blue jackets and different uniforms played some epic tennis.

My eyes widened, momentarily shocking me out of my paralysis. They were absolutely amazing! I ran up to the fence and watched them play. How could they have such precise control, aim, and strength? How did they move across the courts so quickly? Why weren't they even sweating, despite the sun, the jackets, and all the running?

"Can you stay here until practice is over?" Oishi asked. I stared, still transfixed, but managed to nod. I felt him smile. He walked in and greeted two bystanders; an older woman with a pink sweat suit and ponytail, and a guy with Oishi's uniform. I assumed they were captains. I looked around for a place to sit, and ended up just leaning against the fencing, watching the boys play. Oishi did doubles with a loud boy with bright red hair. He jumped around a lot, and hit some amazing shots in the air.

On the other side of the net were two other guys, both about the same height. One had a patterned bandana around his head, and the other sported strange violet eyes that twinkled like he was always considering whether or not to stuff a firecracker down your pants. I cocked my head when they started yelling at each other. I caught the words _idiot _and _careless_, and smiled, because Oishi and his partner seemed so much better together.

On the far court, a boy with closed-eyes played against a guy with light brown hair. I blinked as he shouted various English phrases. "Burning! Oh my God! Great!" I smiled. In a way, he was passionate; to me, it was fascinating. Two players, however, stood aside. One, with glasses, kept flipping through a small notebook, eyes flicking from the pages to the match, writing down bits of information. The other, a white cap pulled over his eyes, had his hands in his pockets. I could tell he was watching the game, but shadows hid his eyes. But I could see his smile.

The practice ended a few hours later, when the sun was just a sliver in the horizon, but reds and yellows still blurred into the growing darkness. Oishi and the others unlatched the fence gate with a metallic grating that cut through my sensitive ears. They walked to the faucets, rinsing their heads in the water and wiping their sweaty faces with towels. No one seemed to notice me as I sat, shrinking up against the wall. Except the short one with the cap. I could tell he saw me, yet shadows hid his eyes. But I could still see his smile.

I watched as Oishi and the others disappeared into the warm-up room. They were changing. Standing up and stretching, I felt my legs shake and exercised my sleeping arms. I dusted off my turquoise dress and waited, leaning against a tennis court pole. They all came out at once, talking about the practice, families, and food. Oishi saw me first. He blinked like he had totally forgotten I was still here. Then, Oishi waved and jogged over.

"Hey, everyone!" Oishi called, gesturing them towards us. "There's someone I want you to meet!" I blinked and subconsciously made myself small. They stared at us. At _me_. Oishi didn't notice how uncomfortable I looked. "Everyone, this is Chatelaine, from America!" I felt them stare me down. My name suddenly sounded unnecessarily extravagant.

I mumbled a quiet _hi_ in English at the ground. I could almost hear Oishi's thoughts next to my own, echoing each other. _This is so awkward_. This was one of those times when I half-expected a tumbleweed blow by. Just before I was about to ask Oishi if we could leave now, his Doubles partner sighed.

"Dang! Oishi has a pretty foreign girlfriend?" I blushed, because he had called me pretty, Oishi's girlfriend, and because he had used the _d_-word. I was really sensitive about that kind of thing. From all of that stress from today or the lack of sleep or jetlag, I don't know. But suddenly, I felt myself _pop _from all the pressure and ended up laughing. It felt good to laugh. I could still feel them looking at me. I told myself to stop, that they probably thought of me as a raving lunatic, but for some reason, that thought made me laugh even harder.

Suddenly, as quickly as I had burst, I clapped a hand over my mouth. "I...am so sorry." But I still laughed into my hand, and Oishi's face made me laugh even harder, then he started laughing because I was laughing and my stomach felt like it could burst. I stopped when Oishi did, and wondered what was so funny in the first place.

Everyone was staring. But, to my surprise, I didn't care. When I share a laugh with someone, I bond with them, and don't fear their company anymore. Oishi chuckled at his friends' faces; incredulous with hesitation and a look that said, _I don't know this person._ I smiled prettily at them.

"No, Eiji, this isn't my girlfriend," Oishi said. He looked at me, and started gesturing to each of his friends. "This is Inui." He was scribbling into notebook he had earlier. Inui's voice was surprisingly deep.

"I have some new data."

"This is Taka." The _burning _and _great_ attitude was gone. He was now...quiet. Almost _timid_. Taka smiled sheepishly. "Fuji." His closed eyes grinned at me with his smile. He cocked his head slightly. I met his eyes and let a light smile play on my lips. "Eiji." Oishi's partner in Doubles. He grinned at me with a wink in his smile. "Kaidoh." He had taken off his bandana, and a loose sheet of hair covered his forehead. He looked better like this. "Momo." Mr. Violet Eyes grinned at me.

"Call me Momo-chan," he said, grinning. _Chan_...Japanese honorific used for endearment or for intimacy when used for male. I didn't blush. I just smiled back.

"Echizen." The tip of his dirty, white Fila cap lifted and a pair of rusty green eyes met my own. They were a drained color, yet still intense, like sunshine flooding through a light forest canopy sprayed bronze. Unlike mine, which were bright and emerald, but edged with a light brown that gradually blended into a glassy black.

"Hi, everyone." I smiled my most dazzling smile and curled a piece of hair out of my face. "I'm Chatelaine, from New Mexico, but you can call me Chat." I tilted my head in Eiji's direction. "And by the way, Oishi's my cousin." They could use Chat if they wanted to.

We exchanged some more small-talk and ended up home late. I skipped another dinner, my mental clock being frazzled from the jet-lag. Before closing my eyes, though, I thought about my day, about all the new people, about what I had said and done. I smiled. This year could be more fun than I had expected.


	2. Deluxe Inui Juice: Second Edition

I was starting school on Monday morning, 8:00 sharp. I yawned into my breakfast. That was, like, 10 o'clock P.M. back in New Mexico. I'd have to become nocturnal to survive. Looking at the clock above Oishi's head, I sighed. Seven o'clock. I rubbed my eyes and felt the growing bags bulging from under them. I had hardly slept last night again. Times like these, I was unbelievably jealous of Helen, who was _never _jet-lagged, no matter where she went.

I yawned again and shoveled cereal into my mouth.

Oishi had a tennis session this morning and I had forced myself to wake when my alarm clock buzzed. I had liked his friends. I hoped they'd liked me too. They were...interesting. Last night when I couldn't sleep, I had carefully set out what I would wear tomorrow: a nice pair of jean-capris, a light blue, ruffled-lace top, and a pair of comfy black flats. I pinned up my hair at the sides and put in a pair of violet earrings that brought out my emerald eyes.

Sighing again, I pushed away the cereal. My stomach hurt and I felt sick. Stupid jet-lag. It made my mental clock totally jacked up. Oishi glanced at me and stood, grabbing his tennis bag. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to come again?" I just smiled and nodded.

We arrived early, but everyone was already lined up and was taking directions from the two coaches. I walked over to a bench across the court and sat next to a bright orange cooler labeled: **INUI. **I could barely hear what they were saying this far, but I made out a few words, at least. Apparently, they had to jog. Coach Ryuzaki (I presumed; the characters were stitched onto her jacket) and Inui came out and sat with me on the bench, while the others started circling the courts. Inui didn't have his uniform. I guessed that he was probably the manager, if not a Regular. Oishi had told me about the Intra-School Ranking Tournaments. Coach Ryuzaki glanced at me, but then turned her eyes back at the stopwatch pressed into her palm.

Inui bent over the cooler, filling a glass with a liquid. I recoiled in disgust. The sludge was thick, red, and had swirls of green and blue specks spinning within the cup. I clapped a hand over my mouth and nose. A rancid smell curled out of the mixture. _What is that? Sewage? _Inui saw me staring, repulsed. He gestured to the cup grandly.

"This is Deluxe Inui Juice Second Edition." Inui held it up to the sunlight. Its bloody surface glistened evilly. _Inui Juice? That was a drink?_ I could have gagged, but I'd never do something like that in front of people. "The loser must drink it." My eyes popped out of my head. I was suddenly very thankful that I didn't have to race.

The first lap had the Regulars leading, with second and first years trailing behind. The second was the same. On the third, Inui stopped a few first years and filled four glasses of the vile juice. They tipped it bravely down their throats. Then passed out flat on the ground. I suddenly paled. It was that bad? I peered at Inui. His glasses flashed as he watched the runner. I shuddered. Suddenly, he seemed very scary.

Soon enough, the pile of victims started to grow. The last ones standing were the Regulars, neck to neck. I silently prayed that Oishi would run faster. Only one more lap. They sprinted down in a cacophony of footsteps and a giant cloud of dust. They passed the bench in a haze of blurred colors and shapes. I peered anxiously at Inui. Who was last? Coach Ryuzaki pressed the stop watch. Inui put down the cup of pre-prepared Inui Juice on the bench.

"Regrettably," he started. I didn't like the way his glasses flashed in the light. "It was a tie."

I could almost hear even the trees sigh. The Regulars sat, gasping and sweating on the ground. The victims of the Deluxe Inui Juice Second Edition were just beginning to come to, also. They were pale and groggy. I shuddered. The male coach was the first to stand. I blinked at him. He had hardly even broken a sweat. Peering down at his comrades, he spoke.

"Now, let's begin practice." Shivering, I suddenly had a newfound respect for Oishi and his teammates. Did they have to do this _every day_? Living under the awful shadow of Inui Juice? Was that how they got inspired to train? By using _fear_? I shook my head and helped some still woozy first years to their feet and handed them their crates of balls. I smiled reassuringly, with pity. How extreme. Seriously? Inui Juice? More like Death Juice.

The Regulars all took out their racquets and strolled into the courts. All except for Fuji. Instead, he came over to Inui and me and smiled. "Inui, may I try some of that Deluxe Inui Juice Second Edition?" I couldn't mask my horror. Fuji was crazy. He was going suicidal. But it was his choice, so I didn't say anything as Inui took the pre-made glass and held it out to Fuji. He was still smiling as he took the glass.

"I'm interested to see what you've come up with this time, Inui." I bit my lip apprehensively and watched him drain the cup. The swirly mixture disappeared in seconds. Fuji wiped his mouth.

"Ah. This is good. I recommend it." I didn't bother saying anything. For some reason, I had half-expected this from Fuji. He just seemed like that kind of person. I cocked my head at him and gave him a quizzical glance. Fuji smiled, and swinging his racquet over his shoulder, walked back into the courts. I leaned back onto my arms. What an interesting character. I wasn't sure if I like him or not, but Fuji was definitely...interesting.

I glanced towards Inui, who was writing down something new in his notebook. I glanced at the page. It was filled with his crammed handwriting and bunch of numbers and symbols that must've at least made sense for him. Inui snapped the book shut when he saw me looking.

"Fuji has never responded to my juices." I looked at Fuji, in a rally with Oishi. "He's known as a prodigy for his technical skills on the courts." I nodded. I could see his skill; how he carefully watched his opponent's movements, swiftly making the most use of his body and reach. I glanced at the others.

"What can you tell me about the other Regulars?" I asked. Inui seemed like the best person to get unbiased information from.

"Kaidoh." Inui pointed at him on Court 1. "His specialty shot is the "Snake". Short-tempered." Inui pointed at Momo, on the opposite court. "Momoshiro. Seigaku's number one rascal." Momo's violet eyes were narrowed and fixed on Kaidoh.

"Something tells me they don't really like each other," I pointed. Inui fixed his glasses.

"They're rivals. But that also makes them amazing Doubles partners, due to the fact that each of them understand each other's movements and play." I shrugged. I guess that made sense. Inui looked over at the second court. "Taka. A power player, and completely different person when he gets hold of a racquet." I looked over at him. Taka was shouting again.

"Burning! Great! Come on, baby!" I nodded. That wasn't very surprising. I was like that, too, just in a different set of circumstances. Like at the piano. But I wasn't really aloud to shout stuff like that in the middle of a recital.

"Eiji, on the other side of the net, has acrobatic plays." I watched as he jumped and hit an amazing shot with a backhand. "Tezuka," he said, pointing at the male coach, "our captain, is even watched by pros." I could tell he was strong just by his facial expression.

"Ryoma," Inui said. "All-around player, and new Regular." Ryoma was still wearing his cap, but his eyes flashed under the rim. "That's all of us Regulars. Oh, and Oishi. But I'm sure you know your own cousin." I nodded then scratched my head.

"Who are you, Inui?" He looked at me, then back at the court.

"Data-specialist and manager." I peered at him. Inui's expression was passive and straight...just like his tennis play. I shrugged...then smiled. This was an interesting team. Diverse, yet excellent because of that. I decided that I enjoyed tennis. I'd definitely come with Oishi to practice. I'd find my own place here. Maybe I could be like first-aid; Mom had already taught me basic procedures for that kind of thing.

Coach Ryuzaki was looking at me, sitting comfortably and smiling at nothing. I looked across Inui and shook her hand. "Hi, I'm Chatelaine, Oishi's cousin from America. I'll be attending Seishun from tomorrow." She shook my hand.

"What grade?" I thought for a second. I was an eighth grader, and since this was junior high...

"Second year," I said, smiling. She nodded, looked at the court, then turned to look at me again.

"Will you be regularly attending our practices?"

I shrugged like I wasn't sure. "Possibly; I haven't signed up for any clubs yet, and I'm still dependent on Oishi to help me get around the town." Coach Ryuzaki nodded then seemed to think about something.

"I might have a job you could perform, if you'd be willing to." I looked at her, unsure yet excited. "We need a mental coach, and though you aren't nearly qualified, I thought that we could still use someone else's opinion when it comes to this kind of thing." I blinked. This wasn't at all what I had expected her to say. But I just nodded. Talking to someone didn't seem so bad. And that way, I could get to know everyone better. It was a strange job, but still...this was tennis. Mentality came from playing and experience. I guessed I could just watch and give support.

That night, Oishi asked me why I kept coming to his practices. I almost laughed out loud. "Because I love watching you play tennis." It wasn't a complete lie, but I guess it wasn't the whole truth either.


	3. A Few Months Later

_A few months later..._

The first real incident (outside of the courts) I was present for happened just minutes from the big match with Hyotei Gakuen. We had stepped onto the bus with me from home, Oishi's tennis duffel swung above his shoulder. At the next stop, a pregnant woman got on, and Oishi, being Oishi, stood to give her his seat next to me.

A few minutes later, she was sweating and puffing and gasping like she had just run a mile. Two stops later, her hand rested on her swollen belly. Ten minutes later, I paled and tapped my cousin on the shoulder.

"Ma'am, I think you've gone into labor," he said gently, bending over her shaking form. She shook her head.

"No, no..." the woman gasped. "I'm due in a month." I took her hand gingerly and told her to calm down. We rode past the school and I glanced at Oishi. _His match_. But the way he watched the stranger with such care and compassion, I knew he had to see her through himself. Oishi half-carried her off the bus when we reached the hospital as I ran behind them, pulling out my phone.

I dialed Momo's number and told him the situation. "Idiot," he hissed into the phone. I rolled my eyes.

"Talk to you later; we'll try to make it on time...just..._stay_." I hung up before he could object. I ran through the conversation as I jogged behind Oishi. _Just sta_y? _How stupid was that statement? What other choice did they have?_ Before we knew it, Oishi and I were rushed into a room and the woman was changed into simple sheets. She seemed more relaxed than before, but beads of sweat still popped on her face.

Oishi was looking at his wrist. I peered over. "What's wrong, Oishi?" He flexed his fingers, then, to my horror, winced.

"I-I think I injured it coming in." He frowned and massaged the sore spot with his left hand.

"But, the tournament..." Oishi smiled grimly at me. The woman under the sheets looked horrified.

"Th-this is all my fault!" She cupped her hands around her mouth. I smiled sadly at her and patted her hand resting on the bed-side table reassuringly. _Yes, yes it kind of is._ Oishi sighed, but smiled up at the lady.

"Well, at least you're alright." She smiled at us.

"Thank you." The woman bowed her head lightly.

I smiled and told her not to push herself. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Three new messages from Momo. I hadn't bothered to check in the frenzy. I sighed, then made three new decisions.

"Oishi," I said, in my most intimidating voice and posture, go check your wrist. Miss," I said, turning in her direction and softening my order, "please let me call your husband so he will be here when your contractions start again." I raised an eyebrow at Oishi, who was still standing at the door. He glanced at me, considering whether or not to question my order, but left regrettably at my insisting. The lady told me her husband's work number, and I gave some good news to a soon-to-be father. At first though, he thought I was joking.

Next, I sent a call to Momo, saying that we wouldn't make it for the match, and to alert everyone else so they could adapt; especially Eiji. But he didn't pick up. I scratched my arms uncomfortably. Time was precious now, us being so close to the match with Hyotei. Then, with nothing else to do but wait, I sat in the comfy chair by the pregnant woman's bed and talked to her until Oishi came back, a bandage wrapped around his wrist. I stood.

"How is it?" I tried not to sound too worried. He shrugged, and I suddenly knew it was pretty bad. Oishi wanted me to think that it was fine, but it was obviously _not _fine, but he just wanted everything to be _fine_ so no one would worry, but you couldn't _not _worry, because now he couldn't play tennis at the match anymore!

And then, would you know it, Momo suddenly magically appeared with a disheveled-looking man whom I supposed was the husband.

Oishi looked at the ground as they rushed in. The man ran to his wife. Momo glanced at me, then Oishi, me, then Oishi.

My cousin sounded sad when he spoke. "I can't play." Oishi lifted his busted hand. Momo's eyes popped. Oishi gestured toward him. "_You _have to."

"B-but, Oishi, I'm not even a Regular anymore!" Momo looked at us with desperate eyes, but inside the pools of violet, I sensed happiness. Ecstasy.

I closed my eyes. He didn't understand how upset Oishi was about this. Momo wasn't the only one unsure right now. "Just go, Momo." He blinked at me. This was one of the rare times I was ever serious these days around him.

"Chat-chan..." I cracked a dry smile.

"We made a choice to help, but now you must go and tell everyone our change in plans." I said _we _to include Oishi and myself together. Both of us. It was _our _decision. And it's _our _loss. Momo didn't move. I stared hard into his eyes and read his thoughts like a book. He wanted to go. But didn't think he could pull it off; he just wasn't good enough. I sighed.

"Momo, there's not really another choice right now." I stepped closer. "You have to help." Slugging his arm, I grinned. "Besides, you'll do fine. You always do." He nodded and smiled hesitantly, then left.

He turned the hall and I let out a giant breath out. Oishi looked at me with a smile in his eyes. "You fuelled his motivation."

I laughed shortly. "I lied through my teeth." I shook my head. "He can do this, he knows it, but he won't accept it. It's like this all the time, for everyone."

I looked at the woman and her husband, watching us quietly. Oishi and I smiled while they kept thanking us, over and over again. We walked down the parking lot and sat, waiting for the next community bus to circle back and take us back to the school.

Oishi stared at me. "You read people like open pages." I blinked. Well, that was a strange way to put it.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Not really. More accurately, I watch their behavior and movements to predict their thoughts and feelings. Plus, humans all act the same in a lot of the same situations; it's like instinct."

Oishi didn't buy it. But he didn't say anything else as we got on the bus, and as we rode down the neighborhoods and streets, I could tell his thoughts were already miles away with Momo and the others playing tennis, alongside them in spirit.

His black eyes were clearly burning with the flame.


	4. Power and Mimicry

Oishi ran all the way to the courts, me sprinting behind him. I smiled. Oishi was still worried. Momo and Eiji were probably doing just fine. As we jogged along the sidewalk, a cacophony of voices met my ears. My heart sank.

"_Hyotei, Hyotei, Hyotei..."_ We ran faster. What met my eyes made my heart almost break. Eiji, hands on knees, stared at the ground. And it didn't take an idiot to see how he felt right now. But only me and Oishi knew the extent of his pain. Eiji needed the Oishi now. And not just to win.

Momo was sweaty, panting, tired. The other team looked pretty chill. I bit my lip. I began to run down the steps to our team, but Oishi stopped me. I looked at his face, distant, focused on Eiji. He believed. I smiled, hooking my arm around Oishi's. Suddenly, Eiji stood. He held up his racquet to Momo. His eyes sharpened as they got into formation. _Australian _Formation.

I gasped. Could they pull this off? Shaking my head, I loosened the thought from my mind. _Look at them. _They were positioned, ready and excited. Eiji bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. I melted with happiness. They made the first point without a hitch. I noticed the other players, one with strange red hair, played acrobatic tennis, like Eiji. I was sure he was almost as good, or even better than Eiji by the way he moved, so light on his feet. The other had hair so shiny, it almost reflected blue. He straightened his round glasses on the bridge of his nose. The spectators had stopped chanting _Hyotei_, and when Momo secured another point with his Dunk Smash, I cheered along with our team.

Momo ran to the net. I glanced at Eiji, and smiled. He was supporting Momo, now. _What a change. _I turned to my cousin, eyes focused on the court, full of pride and happiness. _Just like Oishi._

Soon enough, it was four games, all. Oishi smiled. "They're playing great, those two." He let go of my arm and rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a long strip of paper, and tying it around his head. I could've burst out laughing. But he stuck out his bandaged fist towards his team on the courts and smiled. I grinned at ran up to the others, coming up behind Taka and bopping him lightly on the head.

He turned. "Ah, Chat-chan." I smiled. They could call me Chat-chan if they wanted to; I had gotten over it.

"How's it going?" I asked cheerfully. But I didn't listen to the answer. In a blink, Momo and Eiji already won. They stormed us in a mob, and I let myself be swooped up in a sweaty hug with Eiji. I touched his face, grinning. He blinked at me, then was pulled away again, being congratulated by the other Regulars and Oishi. I smiled again and shook my head.

Inui and Kaidoh; an unlikely Doubles pair. But still winners, after conquering the lightening-fast ace serve from the other team. Even Kaidoh's Boomerang Snake was returned. I shivered. They were far more formidable opponents than I had first expected.

Then there was Taka and Kabaji. My fists shook as I watched Taka's shots mimicked, copied, cheated, as if the easiest thing in the world. Power versus power. If all this Kabaji character had was the power of mimicry, he had no spirit when it came to tennis; and everything else, in that matter. They played hard. Taka hit hadoukyuu after hadoukyuu...until Kabaji did too. But his wrist...too much stress, too much burden...

I covered my eyes with my hands. Surely, he wouldn't continue this madness. He _couldn't_. I knew what he was thinking about. How good he had to perform for his last year before quitting. His passion for something he loved. Going after a goal set further past the point of no return.

When I looked up, my eyes were wet. I still didn't understand. That was a goal; a wonderful, admirable goal. But he'd regret it later. No more tennis, no more sushi-making, no more nothing. I felt empathy...but I still wouldn't have done the same. Each blow connected hard. I could almost hear his muscles burning, throbbing, bruising.

I hardly noticed when Fuji awkwardly put an arm around my shoulder. It was a big feat; _for him_. But he was the only one who saw me cry in the background, and I loved him because of that. The match wore on, each looking for a crack in the other's play, testing the power, enduring the pain. The others couldn't see it, but behind Taka's burning, there was pain. So much pain. I covered my eyes again...and heard a racquet clatter to the floor. It was Kabaji's. His fingers shook as he spoke.

"I...I can't play anymore." My heart thudded against my chest. Taka shivered from exertion, deep, shuddering breaths escaping his lungs. He had sacrificed his hand..._for a game_. I knew it wasn't _just a game _to the others; it was a lifestyle. But I could've screamed in rage and pulled out all of my hair. _How foolish! How unfair! Why would you do such a thing? Why? Why? Why?_

It was like Tezuka's shoulder all over again, now with Taka's risk. I hadn't happened. But it was a gamble. And Inui could give you the results of a gamble with just a flip in his notebook. I loved these people. They were my other family. So how should I be able to understand? Why should I even try to change the way they are? Their stupidity? Their foolishness? Their bravery? And skill.

Fuji braced me tighter like he knew exactly what I was thinking. I sniffed and rubbed puffy eyes. I looked up. Fuji's eyes were opened, sharp. Sharp and blue. Taka dropped his own racquet. I cried out. The handle was smeared with his blood.

It clattered to the ground. The referee declared it a No Game, as either side could no longer resume play. So much hard work. So much pain. For "No Game."

Momo led Taka out. "Good game, Taka." Taka chuckled. I shook with anger. Good game? _Good game? _

Taka sighed. "I didn't win." Momo lifted his injured hand, soaked with blood. I groaned loudly. "I'll leave the rest up to you guys." Ryuzaki-sensei walked up beside them.

He bowed. "I'm sorry. Very sorry." I knew it wasn't true. She flicked his forehead. He winced. Taka never didn't think things through beforehand. He never had anything to be sorry _for_. Taka was always smart. Sensible. But not this time.

Fuji left my side, walking across the court and picked up Taka's bloody racquet. His eyes were sharp. "Taka, is it okay if I use this?" Taka nodded quietly. I boiled inside. I knew it would help no one to burst out, angry. So I marched up the stairs.

I heard someone turn. "Where're you going, Chat-chan?" It was Oishi's voice. I felt myself starting to crack. I felt all of that unspent rage boiling inside. I wouldn't take it out on Oishi or the others. They didn't deserve it.

I could feel everyone watching me, but I didn't turn around. "Places." Was all I said. "Places far away." And with that, I marched off the court, keeping my body language as relaxed as possible so they wouldn't suspect I was mad. Behind me, I heard footsteps. So I ran hard until I exited the courts and hopped over one of the hedges bordering the wall.

Footsteps pounded on the tile. "I swear she came this way." It was Eiji. I closed my eyes and breathed quietly.

"She'll turn up eventually." It was Oishi. He sounded vaguely worried. Vaguely. I'd turn up again later. Spent, yet calmed down. I wasn't too angry anymore, but Taka's actions still made me stew.

A single pair of footsteps clacked on the ground. I scooted closer to the hedge as the person walked closer to where I was hidden. I wondered if it was Eiji. I hoped he wouldn't find me. Perhaps it was Oishi, or Fuji, or Momo. But I didn't want to see any of them. They didn't understand. Suddenly, a shadow loomed over my head, and a person jumped over the hedge, peered down at me, and sat.

It wasn't Fuji; it wasn't even Eiji. It was Atobe.


	5. Across the Hedge

I looked sideways at him. Atobe brushed the hair out of his face and threw me a glittering smile. I blinked.

"What're you doing here?" I asked, not unkindly. He laughed quietly.

"It's not every day you see a pretty girl with tears in her eyes hop a hedge to hide from her teammates." I shrugged, wiping my face. Fair enough. I wasn't mad anymore though, and there weren't any tears left. But I didn't understand. I was "enemy." Why was he even here?

As if to answer, Atobe smiled lightly with his eyes closed and put two fingers in between his eyes, like he was thinking, or pushing up a pair of invisible glasses. I tilted my head. _What's he doing that for? _

"I understand you, Chat-chan." Raising an eyebrow, I wondered what the heck he was saying. He opened his blue eyes and stared at me. Then, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, he said, "tennis."

I shook my head and tried to not act as exasperated I felt. "I don't understand what you're saying, Atobe." His pasty skin flushed when I said his name. I continued. "Tennis? What about tennis?" He laughed like I was a naive little girl. Strangely, it didn't bug me.

"You feel tired! Upset! Confused." Atobe looked into my eyes. I couldn't read what he felt. His blue eyes only flickered in the light like the wings of a butterfly. A gentle, caring, delicate stranger. I recoiled at the thought and shook myself. _Now why did I think of that? _Atobe blinked and dropped his voice to a whisper. "They don't understand. How much pain you go through every time someone gets hurt out there." He watched my face for my reaction at the statement. I didn't blink. But inside, I knew he was right. I loved them all so much. Too much. But I couldn't be by their sides forever.

Atobe smiled like he knew exactly what I was thinking. He smirked like he knew _me_; like he knew _exactly_ how right he was in saying what he did. But instead of sighing in surrender, I just shrugged nonchalantly. When I answered, I tried to sound as even-toned and level as possible. I took a deep breath. "I don't love it that they risk so much for the game." Turning and looking straight into his blue eyes, I spoke with a conviction I didn't realize was even there. "But they know what they're fighting for." Atobe seemed almost surprised, but then smirked again, making my stare falter and fall blankly on the floor.

He put his fingers on his face again, laughing. "Chat-chan, you are the most interesting person I've ever met." I eyed him. His body movements, his traits, his eyes gave nothing away. My stare became suspicious. _Wasn't he the enemy?_ I chastened myself silently. Everyone deserved a first chance, no matter where they were from, what they looked like, or who they were from. I'd judge them by themselves. After all, that was all that really mattered...right?

Nevertheless, I still felt myself blush. Atobe stared at me intently. I smiled lightly under his gaze. "What is it?" He didn't answer. I pushed his shoulder gently and laughed quietly. "Seriously, what's wrong?" Atobe smiled slyly at me.

"Nothing's wrong." I tilted my head. Suddenly, a cacophony of footsteps resounded on the ground close to the hedge we were hiding behind.

"Where is he?" It was Shishido's voice, one of Atobe's teammates. "You _said _he was here, Kabaji. You said he ran over here a while ago to go to the bathroom."

I looked over at Atobe. He shrugged and grinned.

It was Kabaji's voice now. "Yes." They shuffled around a little longer.

Ootori sounded anxious. "Where is he? Akutagawa's match is almost over." I heard Atobe sigh next to me.

"I must go now," he said, looking out over the hedge. I nodded, feeling a little relieved, a little sad, and a whole lot confused. Then, he smirked at my expression and leaned in close. I held my breath and instinctively leaned away. "Find me later," he whispered. I nodded again as he cleared the hedge smiling, startling his teammates who collectively pounced on him with questions after they stopped shrieking in surprise. He laughed loudly over their voices, which shut them up right away.

"We have a match to win!" He said, snapping his fingers grandly in the air. He walked away with his teammates in step, and I heard the crowd roar seconds later as they stepped back onto the courts. I had half a mind to cheer too. It hardly bugged me that he was our competitor. I sighed and suddenly shuddered. I could have drowned in those deep blue eyes. Collecting myself, I hopped up looked around for anyone. The square was empty. Everyone was gone. I could leave now and cheer for Tezuka's game. But instead, I slowly sat down again.

Even from here, I could hear the crowd chanting.

_"Hyotei, Hyotei, Hyotei..."_

But it didn't worry me anymore. I wasn't loyal to teams; I was loyal to people. It was silly how people acted towards each other. Regulars in the tennis team, Hyotei, Rikkaidai, and everyone else, in that matter. Weren't we all the same anyway? With an ambition to please and a hunger to conquer? Trust and friendship depended on each other and situations from the past. People were people, and people made mistakes. But I'd love them for who they really were.

After all, that was all that really mattered...right?


	6. Bitter Assured

I stayed behind the hedge for a long, long time. I reflected, daydreamed, and considered; I did anything _but _go back and watch the matches. I heard the noises of the crowd from here: cheering, clapping.

"_Hyotei, Hyotei, Hyotei..."_

After a long time, a large group of footsteps echoed on the tile floor. The game was over. I stepped out from my hiding place after everyone else left and made my way slowly back to the courts. It was empty except for the Regulars, Hyotei, and our coaches. Seishun was gathered over Tezuka, stretched out on a hospital gurney, arms quivering.

I quickened my step, breath catching with each foot-fall. Oishi turned at me as I approached. "Where have you been?" His diction sharp and pointed. I recoiled slightly. I could tell he was anxious with worry and pain after injuring his own wrist then watching his own captain hurt himself directly after. But his words still stung. But I wasn't sad for him. I was angry. My eyes flashed. I barely managed to bite back a bitter retort. Oishi was worried about the team, Tezuka, and, I could tell, me. I softened.

"You need to calm down," I said gently. His usually warm eyes glared angrily into mine. I was having a staring match with my oldest cousin. I noticed the others, watching us as Tezuka was wheeled away to the hospital. I heard someone telling us to let it go. But I realized that I was so sick and tired of letting it go. _Let it go. Let it go. But how? _You can never 'let it go.' It either resolves itself, or it doesn't. No matter what people say, they never do actually '_let it go_.'

I wanted this resolved. _Now_. But it wouldn't help anyone to get tangled up in a fight now. Then again, it was so unfair how Oishi was behaving like it was all _my _fault. I was torn, driven by my ethics, my basic nature, and my compassion. For him, and everyone else. I quivered.

In the end, I sighed. Oishi was so stubborn sometimes. And he was so stressed. It wasn't right of him to let all of that anger out on me, but I understood what he was feeling. I always understood. Well aware of all the stares, I put a hand on his shoulder.

I tried to keep my voice as calm and assuring as possible. "Oishi." He flinched in anger...then shame. He looked away. "We know you feel stressed." I looked at Oishi, his shoulders slumped and glance away, far away from mine. The way his eyes darted away every time I tried to get closer. To resolve something. To make things right.

Suddenly, I felt angry again. He didn't stand up anymore. He was so scared of everyone else. A _coward_. Fuji must've seen the blood rush to my face, so he darted forward quick as lightening and grabbed my hands before I could do something. _Something. _Like slap Oishi. Or run away. His eyes were sharp and blue as they peered into mine. I didn't back down, but I shook his grip off my hands, then spun on my heel and marched up the stairs.

"Have fun with all this, Oishi." I waved a hand lazily behind me. I didn't turn around. I just marched on out. And I didn't look back. Walking out of the courts, alone, I found the unspoken retort lodged in the pit of my throat.

I was glad I hadn't said it. It would've hurt. It could've harmed. Yet despite that, I had still walked away and hadn't looked back. It was my victory and still my loss. Someone behind me called my name. I turned warily. It was Atobe. Somehow, I didn't feel as bad to see him as the others. I gave a dry smile at him.

"Chat-chan, you left so early I could hardly keep up." He brushed the hair out of his face, which promptly then fell right back down again. "You look sad." I cracked a smile. He smirked and smiled sarcastically. "That's much better." He gazed intently at my face. I turned away. I felt Atobe frown. "Why don't I take you somewhere? To go eat? To have some fun and cheer you up?" I thought for a second then smiled.

"I'd like that. A lot." Atobe smirked again, but I was getting used to it. It was his way to smile. Just...different. I took out a pen and scribbled my cell number on his hand. Looking up, I saw that Atobe was almost a half-head taller than me, but I didn't mind. I leaned up and pecked his cheek, then hopped on the bus that miraculously stopped not moments after. I would've died have I had to stay in that air any seconds longer.

Hopping off at the house, I walked alone and realized three things.

One: I had missed the entire second half of the match. I didn't even know who won. But that didn't matter to me, anyway. Two: I had a date. With Atobe. The one I had kissed on the cheek. My cheeks grew hot just thinking about it.

Then final, ugly, lovely number three.

That how bittersweet had never once ever tasted this bitter.


	7. An Unexplained Outing

That night, Atobe called. I was reading my favorite book for, like, the thirteenth time. It ended, _"...and they lived bitterly ever after."_ This had to be the best author ever. My phone vibrated in my backpack on the floor. I leaned over the bed and brought it out, checking the number. _Unknown._

"Hello?"

"Chat-chan." I blinked. It was Atobe. Smiling, I straightened up and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Atobe. What's up?" The line crackled.

"Well, you know that date I was asking you about?" I raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Yeah?" I said, knowing where this was headed. He laughed into the telephone. I could imagine him smirking, flicking the hair out of his eyes.

"Well, I was wondering if you were interested in going out at four, tomorrow afternoon. I can give you a ride both ways and take you out to dinner." I cocked my head.

"What were you planning?"

I could see him smirk again. "It's a surprise." I raised an eyebrow again.

"Well, then how will I know what to wear?" He was silent for a little while then came up with a brilliant solution. _"Brilliant"_ solution.

"You can borrow some of my sister's clothes, if you'd like." I gave a little start. He had a sister? And she'd actually let me borrow her clothes without even meeting me? Suddenly, I realized how little I actually knew about him. But I could learn more, right?

So I just laughed into the phone. "Alright, if it's okay with her. Four it is." I gave him my address. He said a goodbye and hung up, leaving me confused yet feeling bubbly inside.

Why couldn't he just tell me what we were doing? I scoffed. _Men_. A tiny scuff sounded outside my door. Suspicious, I crept closer, then swung it open. No one was there. But I heard a door close downstairs. Downstairs from Oishi's room. My blood boiled. But then I calmed down. It's not like he could tag along to wherever Atobe was taking me, anyway. And Oishi couldn't stop me from going, right? It didn't matter.

Satisfied, I closed the door and switched off the lights. I yawned drowsily, my body sore and tired, but I had a feeling that this was going to be another one of those sleepless nights.

So I pulled out another book and started to read until I finally switched off the lamp and let my bubbly feelings soothe me to sleep tonight.


	8. The Gray Lady

Today it was Saturday, ten P.M., eight hours from my first date with Atobe. Well, my first date, actually. But he didn't need to know that. I had slept in, not bothering to get up in time for Oishi's tennis practice. Not like I could get kicked off. I'm not even on the team.

Amaya's smiling face greeted me at breakfast. Mom, Auntie, and Uncle were at work. I smiled at her, enjoying her bowl of fruit and a few chunks of bread. I pulled a carton of milk out of the fridge.

"Chat-chan?" I focused on pouring the milk.

"Yeah?"

"Is it true you have a date tonight?" My hand shook, making the milk splash out onto the countertop. I set the glass on the table then grabbed the wash cloth, wiping up the spill. I kept my voice even. I learned that all little children went after a reaction. If I kept it level, she'd tell me the truth faster.

"Who told you that?" The checkered cloth polished the wooden counter. I pressed harder to scrub off a smudge from cooking oil.

Amaya hesitated a little. She stopped chewing her apples and gulped. "Oishi." I hummed, still scrubbing, even though the imperfection was long gone. I eyed the spotless countertop then sighed, throwing the towel back into the sink. I sat and downed the milk.

"Yeah," I muttered. "It's true." I took a piece of her peach and ran back upstairs to get ready. I had told Tomo-chan and Sakuno that I'd go out downtown with them. I stepped out of my pajamas and slipped into some jeans and a tee. Grabbing my purse, I bopped Amaya fondly on the head before leaving.

"You'll be fine home alone, right?" She nodded happily. Without anyone around, no one cared how long she played on the computer. I got on the subway and waited at the café we had all decided to rendezvous in at eleven. I checked my watch. It was eleven twenty. I laughed. It was just like them to be late. Luckily, foreseeing this, I pulled out a book from my bag. Pride and Prejudice; one of the few books I had brought with me because all of my novels were too heavy. What can I say? I loved hard-covers.

After finishing a few chapters, I put it down and stared out the window. Across the street was a little flower shop, a store that advertised ramen, and a convenient store. I stared into the flower shop. In there was Eiji, holding a little bouquet of yellow and red flowers. I wondered. _Who're those for? _I angrily shook my head. _Why did I care? _

Sakuno and Tomo burst in, out of breath. "S-sorry, Chat-chan," Sakuno stuttered through her gasps. I stopped her with a smile. This was the easiest way to make Sakuno feel at ease.

"It's fine. Shall we go, now?" They nodded. As we browsed, Tomo-chan started talking in a loud voice about "Ryoma-sama this, and Ryoma-sama that..." I tuned her out and felt the fabric of a skirt hanging on the nearby rack. I checked the price tag when I heard my own name. I turned.

"What?" Tomo-chan rolled her eyes. She bugged me sometimes. How she was always so harsh-tempered. But she was Sakuno's friend, and my acquaintance. They were a year younger, but they were the only girl-friends I had made here in Japan.

"I _said_ that everyone was asking about you. _'Where has Chat-chan gone? Why isn't she here anymore?'_" I found myself still clutching the skirt in one hand, the other wrapped around my stomach. _They missed me?_

"W-well, what does Oishi say?" I stuttered. I had to know. Tomo-chan looked at me like she was considering how I was feeling. I wanted to scream at her, _what does it matter how I feel! Tell me, already!_ But I didn't. I needed to learn to be more patient, and this was the first step. Practice.

"Well, Oishi-senpai says that you were too busy and had other things to do." _Oishi had said that? For me? _I thought about my cousin. _Everyone had been there when I left. They knew exactly what had happened. But why was he telling them these lies? _For _you_. Because he _cares _about _you_. Because you're _family_.

I let go of the soft fabric and ran my fingers through my hair. I should apologize. But Oishi knew me too well; he knew I was sorry long ago. Reassured, I smiled and held the skirt up to Tomo-chan. "I think this would look nice on you," I said. Then skimming the racks, I plucked a nice white top with tiny beading that complimented the rusty green of her eyes. She gave a thanks and went into the stalls. I looked for something for Sakuno.

She shuffled around behind me, nervous and looking down at her fingers. I shrugged and searched for some nicer dresses. I held up a yellow sundress to her tiny frame. "Um, Chat-chan,"

"Mmhmm?' I ran my fingers across the racks, looking for something pale to tone out her skin, but something dark enough to not appear too washed out against her dark hair.

"Um...I just...had a question." I turned to her. Sakuno was shy, too shy, but quiet and a great listener. She was everything I wasn't. I admired her. But sometimes I wished she'd just spit it out.

"And I most likely have an answer." I continued browsing, picking up a few light pinks and checking the sizes. Sakuno was tiny; even shorter than me. And that was saying something. Finally, I triumphantly held up a nice, pastel-peach dress with tiny buttons and a double-tiered skirt. I hit just above her knee when I held it up.

"Um, Chat-chan..." I thrust it in her arms. And put my hands on my hips. She looked at the ground. I raised an eyebrow as if daring her to ask her question. "W-why did you leave?" She glanced up at me. I blinked in surprise and sighed. I turned around and ran my fingers across the rack of XS dresses.

I sighed and turned to look at her. I rubbed my eyes. "Look, to tell you the truth, I don't really know." Shrugging, I gave her a flat smile. "I'd love to go back. And maybe I will. Just not today, okay?" I turned again. I heard Sakuno step into a stall, the lock clicking into place. Sighing, I sat and put my hands on my eyes.

"I'm going out for a breath of air, okay, guys?" I called at them, both changing. Opening the door of the shop, a tiny bell twinkled above my head. _Why had I left? Why had I run away? What was I even running away from? _I felt these things ring in my head like the bell. I imagined the Regulars, running laps under the evil glint of the Deluxe Inui Juice...I saw Taka's racquet, its handle smeared with blood...I saw Eiji, standing in the flower shop with a bouquet of little red and yellow flowers...

_Why did it hurt so much to watch? What was I running from? Why did it feel like I was being killed whenever something happened that I couldn't help; that I couldn't save them from? Oishi was called Seigaku's mother. So what was I? Family? Lover? Friend? _

I walked back into the store. Tomo and Sakuno twirled around in their new outfits. I gave them a little smile. We bought our things and left. I checked my watch. It was two-thirty. They walked me to the nearest subway and I waved goodbye, telling them that we should do this another time. I really meant it.

I got home around three, greeting Amaya in the computer room with a thump on the top of her seven-year-old head. She grinned at me with her toothy smile. I ripped the tag off of my new dress I had just bought. I don't usually shop. But this dress had been pretty cheap, and I had been reassured by Tomo and Sakuno that I looked nice in it too.

I held it up in front of myself in front of the mirror. It was a deep turquoise (I've always been drawn to green) that almost matched my eyes and blushed the tan-ness of my skin-tone. I slipped it on over a slip and peeled on a pair of dark tights with a pair of spandex shorts for modesty. I stepped in front of the mirror again. The green clung to my skin like a glove. I slipped into a nice pair of heels that weren't very high. It was a mid-sleeve dress that ended a little below the knee. Tiny shiny, black beads accented the edges and a satin sash elegantly wrapped around my waist.

I combed out my hair, twisting it into a high bun and pushing in a beaded clip to make it stay. I pinned up the shorter strands and washed my face, being careful to not splash water onto the dress. While most girls would put on some make-up, I didn't. I grabbed a long, dark jean-jacket and wrapped my bag across my shoulder. It didn't match, but at least it was large enough to hold everything I needed: phone, first-aid kit, bottle of water, pack of chewing gum...

I slipped off my watch and slipped it into the side pocket. Instead, I clasped on a bracelet with tiny pink roses wrapped around a silver base. I attached the matching necklace and earrings. Standing in front of the mirror, I sighed, content. Finally. I felt ready.

I took out my watch. It was three-fifteen. I sighed. I was awful at judging time. So I sat down again and pulled out Pride and Prejudice again, letting Jane Austen suck me into the life of the Bennets, pulling me out of my own messed-up life. The doorbell rang. I gave a start and clapped the book shut, then shoved it into my bag. Then, looking around for anything else I needed for tonight, I crammed an umbrella and my wallet in too. So much space. And I needed it all.

I flew down the stairs, arranging myself when I reached the bottom. Exhaling loudly, I turned the knob. It was Oishi. And Eiji. Along with Momo, Taka, Ryoma, Inui, and Fuji. All of the Regulars and our manager. But not Tezuka. I froze, at a loss. Then, acting on my own, I stepped aside, letting them in. They were quiet as they kicked off their shoes.

Oishi spoke first. "Where're you going all dressed up?" My immediate reaction was to close-up and spit out something bitter. But I breathed heavy. _Patience_.

"Places," I said, not unkindly. My mind flashed back to the game with Hyotei.

_Where're you going, Chat-chan? _I hadn't paused. I hadn't looked back.

_Places. Places far away._

Until now. Now, my past was here, in present. I cleared my throat. "Out." He nodded.

"We'll be staying for dinner." It was my turn to nod. I jutted my head towards the room down the hall.

"Amaya's in there. Tell her to get off in fifteen minutes." Oishi nodded again. I turned...and left the house. Where I would go, I didn't know. Atobe was picking me up here. So I sat on the top step and waited until a sleek black car pulled up. Atobe came out, waving at me. I smiled. He was in a suit. Which meant it was good I had dressed formally. It would've been awful if we ended up going bowling. Or ice skating. Or something else besides...whatever we were doing.

He let me in first. A driver nodded at me. I smiled, being polite. And as Atobe closed the door behind him, I saw the curtains of our drawing room close abruptly. I peered back, but saw nothing more. I turned to Atobe.

"So, _now _can you tell me what we're doing tonight?" He smirked again and flipped his hair then pushed up his invisible glasses.

"Chat-chan, if you must know, we are eating at my home. And when we are done, I will explain more." I gave an exaggerated huff. His cheeks flushed. In a little while, after driving a little ways away from the city, we arrived at nothing short of a mansion. It was a white, rectangular house, with a wrought-iron gate and well-tended garden. The gate opened for the car and I peered outside. It was a lovely place, green, trimmed and clean, with flowers buzzing with bees far from the sidewalks where people could go on an afternoon stroll. A bubbling fountain sprayed water from the point of a violin bow, held high and resting on the stone violin being held by a long-haired woman in gray.

A tiny pond was covered with a blanket of lilies. Lattice gates with rows of ivy and morning glories met at each crossroad. The car pulled up and Atobe helped me out. We walked up a set of wide marble steps. The heavy cherry-oak door opened and we stepped into a giant hall. It was immensely tall, with doors on both sides, a closet, and two sets of stairs that led to an upper landing and floor.

And oddly, hearing the click of my footsteps echo so loudly in this room, the first thought that popped into my head was: _Man, this place has amazing acoustics._

A maid took my jacket. I hung onto my purse and bowed, saying thank you. She smiled gently. We walked into one of the side doors, through a kitchen, bar, billiards room, and a smaller bedroom with a wide window and a small bowl of fruit with two silver forks set on napkins were set daintily on the small glass table. We sat.

"You have a lovely home," I said, stating the obvious. Even the tables were elegant, with crystal accents built into the wood and ornate designs carved into the legs. Atobe smirked again. I set down my fork.

"Can you tell me what we're doing _now?_" I was getting impatient, yet increasingly excited. He flicked the hair out of his face. Atobe was enjoying this. He looked at me and sighed dramatically. Reaching into his pockets, Atobe pulled out two rectangles of paper, setting them flat on the glass. I gasped.

"You got us tickets to the _opera house?_" I couldn't mask my excitement. How did he know I loved opera? The name typed below the time was the title: **Tosca**. I grinned ear to ear. I had watched Tosca before I had left from New Mexico at the Santa Fe Opera House. It was _amazing_. I looked up at Atobe, giving him my most grateful smile.

"Thank you," I said. And I really meant it. He nodded like it didn't matter. But I could tell he was pleased with himself. I was so excited! My first opera since I got to Japan! This was so amazing. The opera itself was in Italian, but they probably had subtitles to follow along with. But who could look at the words when there was so much action just on the stage?

The ticket's time was scheduled for six. We had about an hour and a half. The maid took away the empty plates. "So, what are we doing now?" I asked Atobe, still cheery.

He smirked at my excitement and swiped the tickets back, folding them into his pocket. "Now, I give you the grand tour." I blinked. I thought that he would've had something else in mind, like an activity. But a tour would be interesting, too, I guess. So I followed Atobe as he led the way through his giant home and wondered whether or not he ever felt lonely.


End file.
